


Scared For You

by QueryingQuill



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Relationship Goals, powercouple being awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 18:12:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13576167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueryingQuill/pseuds/QueryingQuill
Summary: Both Hiccup and Astrid lead dangerous lives. The trick is accepting that the other won't always be safe.





	Scared For You

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock didn’t know a lot of things; how to fight hand-to-hand came to mind (as Snotlout had painfully proven to him last week), also public speaking (he was going to get rid of this stutter someday, dammit), hunting (blood made his stomach roll, alright?), multiple languages (to his credit, Latin, French, English, and Nordic were enough), and botany (one of the reasons Fishlegs was kept so close). But there was one thing he did know:

Astrid Hofferson scared him.

Sure, she’d always scared him a little, what with that axe perpetually glued to her hand. Hiccup had seen her like an unobtainable Valkyrie for much of his early life — beautiful, elegant, and dangerous. Perhaps that was part of the appeal; the intrigue perpetuated by the enigma surrounding her. Hiccup loved a puzzle. Always had, and Astrid was the biggest, most frightening he’d ever encountered. She’d punched him, kicked him, shoved knives and shields and blades in his face, dropped axe-hilts on his groin, threatened his safety and well-being numerous times in the past, but for scare factor, this had to take the cake.

“Good gods, you’re heavy,” he grunted as she sagged limply against him.

She giggled — the unfamiliar noise sending a shivering shudder down Hiccup’s spine. 

“Iss ‘cuz I’m so muscley!” she exclaimed. One rippling bicep presented itself to Hiccup, right under his nose. He went cross eyed trying to focus on it. The low-smouldering coals in Gothi’s fire pit reflected off her pale skin, throwing her muscles into beautiful relief. 

Hiccup could almost overlook the large and angry sutured trench that sliced its way down her arm. 

He sighed, trying to convince himself that he was OK with this — that he was OK with his girlfriend returning to Berk after a scouting mission covered in mud and branches and soaked with her own blood. It was bound to happen sometimes, right? He couldn’t control her, and her job with the Guard wasn’t without it’s risks. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t shake the image of a pallid Astrid crumpling to the Academy floor, shivering and shaking and mumbling incoherently about a rogue Timberjack.

Astrid giggled again, trying to right herself, before stumbling and clutching at her head. 

“‘Mm I on a ship? Room iss swimming,” she grumbled. She started slowly falling backwards, and Hiccup rushed forward to catch her. 

“Alright, no,” he said firmly. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’ve lost too much blood. Sit.” 

With a gentle hand, he directed her back to the cot in the corner. Her usually brilliant blue eyes remained unfocused and cloudy, in no part thanks to the heavy ale Gothi’d given her before stitching her back together. Astrid had been in such pain that she couldn’t sit still long enough for the needle to pass through the lip of the cut; the healing apprentice, Halguts, suggested getting the girl drunk enough to sedate, and while Hiccup had initially opposed the idea, he’d calmed considerably when his girlfriend had stopped writhing uncontrollably upon the wicker bed. Typical of Astrid, however, it wasn’t twenty minutes after the stitches had been sewn that she became restive. 

She blinked up at him. Pain briefly washed over her face and she grimaced unpleasantly. 

“Stupi’ dragon.”

Hiccup chuckled anxiously, beginning to rearrange a pillow for her to lay down on. “I’m going to have to agree with you there.”

When he turned back to her, she was staring at him, brow furrowed in consternation or thought, he couldn’t tell.

“You mad, Hic?” she asked.

“At you?”

She nodded, and then winced as her vision began to spin. Using his helpful arm as support, she gingerly lowered herself onto the bedding. 

Hiccup was silent for a moment, tucking one of the thick furs around her. Was he mad? Almost certainly, yes. Mad at his utter and complete inability to keep her safe. Mad that when she hadn’t returned after four hours, he didn’t go looking for her. Mad that her passion in life included a constant threat looming over her. 

But at her?

He sighed again, crouching down next to the bed. “No, love, I’m not mad at you.”

She rolled to face him, leaning on her good arm. “But you are mad?”

Maybe frustrated was a better word to describe Hiccup’s inner turmoil. His overwhelming sense of helplessness that accompanied Astrid’s multifarious and frequent injuries was something he’d always have to deal with — he hated it, but he couldn’t stop her from putting herself in danger for a greater cause. From being Astrid.

“You remember what you said after my initial test flights on the Dragonfly prototype?”

She scoffed, a bit of the normal Astrid trickling in. “‘f you say Dragonfly One, Mm locking you up.’”

Hiccup covered her hand with his. “Did you mean it?”

She opened her mouth, probably to snap out a “yes, of course I did,” but then promptly closed it. Her face screwed up, and she was thinking as introvertedly as the potent pain and alcohol would let her. 

“No,” she decided. “Even dough i’waz a stupid, hav-assed plan, you’re going to do whatever it takes ta figure out a problem. ‘Specially with the hunters.”

Hiccup smiled knowingly. “That’s how I feel right now. I’m frustrated, yes, but this is your life, and my job — as a friend as much as your betrothed — is to support you in your decisions. If I could, yeah, I’d take you off the Guard, but that’s a selfish way to think. I can’t stop you, so all I can do is be here.” 

Her returning smile was the brightest thing he’d seen all day. 

“You know I love you, right?”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You tell me every day.”

Her eyes were starting to close, and she yawned into the pillow. 

Astrid gripped his hand slightly tighter. “Stay?” she asked, slowly drifting into incoherency.

Hiccup settled himself more comfortably on the wooden planking and hummed in confirmation. 

When her breathing started to even out, big, deep inhales, Hiccup finally released his own breath. All the fear and panic he’d been sitting on since she’d returned flew out of his body. His shoulders relaxed. The lump in his throat disappeared. His mind stopped buzzing with anxiety as he watched a loose blonde bang flutter in the slight breeze blowing through the open window. 

Whatever might be said about their differences, Hiccup realised, he and Astrid were the same at the core: willing to sacrifice themselves to help others. However much she scares him when she flies off alone, Hiccup would have to accept that fear. 

Because perhaps that was part of the appeal — the consuming warmth when he held her, once again, safe, in his arms.


End file.
